


black and white and a hundred ISO

by shoestringjoe



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Cliche, Flirting, Fluff, M/M, coffee shop AU, english major!louis, i hope it comes across as flirting, lol, photographer!harry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-30
Updated: 2014-01-30
Packaged: 2018-01-10 14:37:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,160
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1160862
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shoestringjoe/pseuds/shoestringjoe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>He quickly pressed down on the shutter, not really caring about the contrast or aperture, solely intending to capture the moment before it was gone. Because he’s pretty sure that he has finally found the something (or rather, the someone) he has been looking for. The boy, Harry has come to realise as he zoomed in on the picture, is utterly and undeniably beautiful.</i>
</p><p>a self-indulgent coffee shop au where they're both in uni and louis caught harry taking pictures of him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	black and white and a hundred ISO

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yj](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=yj).



> A/N: This was intended to be a present for yj because happy 20th (ha ha ha ha). This was prompted by the loveliest @daintilyharry because I ran out of ideas for fluff and yeah that's it. It's rushed because I wrote it in three hours and yeah sigh I need to up my game. I DIDN'T KNOW WHAT TO NAME THIS THING.
> 
> Disclaimer: I do not own one direction bla bla bla this is all purely fictional except for some bits where it's canon.

The thing about Harry Styles is that everything fascinates him.

The melting snow, the posters that line the walls of the subway, the bright lights during a concert, the asphalt, the city lights and shadows, the people.

He likes people. He likes the way they talk, the way they express emotions, and especially the way they behave when they think no one can see them. He takes a picture of everything, because he wants to capture the minute moments where he could see a side of people others have so blatantly overlooked.

In a way, he was a romantic.

He carries his camera everywhere. That’s the life of a photography student, he thinks, as he snaps a picture of an old couple standing by the cinema. His friends have teased him about marrying his camera, because that’s all he’s ever been attached to since he graduated high school. He doesn’t mind.

On Tuesdays, he has a long break before his class on black and white photography. So he goes to the coffee shop, not far from the arts building. He loves how the shop is quaint and cozy, unlike the cafeteria at the main building, which was always teeming with people and noise.

“Hey Zayn,” he greeted the barista as he entered the shop. “Anything new on the menu today?”

“Not that you’d ever like anything else other than toffee nut,” Zayn retorted, shaking his head as he prepared Harry’s drink.

“Hey, you never know. One day, I might try one of those cinnamon things.”

Harry lifted his camera and took a shot of Zayn working the whipped cream dispenser. The dark-haired boy pulled a face in response. “Sure. Here you go.”

“Thanks, mate.”

“Hey, listen, the lads and I are going to the new bar at Wessington’s this Friday, you in?”

“Oh. Um, I’ve got a portfolio that needs to be worked on.”

“You always do.”

“Zayn,” Harry sighed. “I’ll join you after my deadlines are over, okay? I promise.”

Zayn gave a small smile before attending to the next customer, and Harry grinned back in response. He walked towards the back of the shop, humming the song that’s playing under his breath. He took a seat at the far left, next to some décor he found quite charming, and whipped out his camera to look over the shots he took that morning.

There was the policeman on a skateboard he had taken a photo of when he passed by the park, the old couple by the cinema, the woman taking a nap while waiting for the train, but none of them was what he was looking for. It’s like there was something missing. He just couldn’t put his finger on it.

Harry raised his camera and looked around the shop through the lenses, as if that something he was looking for would magically appear in front of him. He took a shot of someone stressing over a crossword puzzle, and then one of Zayn spilling a latte over a customer’s shoes, making a note to save that and send it to Liam and Niall.

He was just about to put his camera down when his lenses fell upon someone who has their nose deep in a book. The person looked up to take a sip from their cup, and Harry got a glance at the person’s face.

And, well.

He quickly pressed down on the shutter, not really caring about the contrast or aperture, solely intending to capture the moment before it was gone. Because he’s pretty sure that he has finally found the something (or rather, the someone) he has been looking for. The boy, Harry has come to realise as he zoomed in on the picture, is utterly and undeniably beautiful.

The lighting seemed a bit off, but the shadows that casted upon said boy’s face made his cheekbones stand out more and his eyelashes framing his crystal blue eyes much darker. The warm yellow lights of the shop made him seem a bit unfocused, but soft at the same time. Harry thinks that’s the best picture he’s ever taken.

He decided to take a few more, just in case it got deleted somehow. It was definitely not an excuse to ogle at the pretty boy. Not at all. (And if it was, well, no one had to know.)

_Snap!_

The boy glanced up for a moment, and Harry quickly pretended to be staring intensely at the camera roll, his hand reaching out to grab the latte he had abandoned as soon as he sat down by the booth. When the boy looked back at his book, Harry breathed a sigh of relief.

As inconspicuous as he can be, he scooted a little over to the right to get a different angle. Ah, yes. Perfect. _Snap!_

Okay, just one more, he thinks. He lowered the camera from his eyes, just to check if the boy noticed anything. He doesn’t. Good.

He moved over to the chair beside him, just to get a tiny bit closer to the boy. He didn’t notice how close he was until an airy voice interrupted his concentration, almost causing him to drop the three-thousand pound camera.

“Excuse me,” the voice said. Harry looked up, only to see the boy frowning at him. Oh. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“Um,” Harry stuttered. “I was- I was just, um, taking pictures of the décor.”

“Huh. The décor behind me must be pretty amazing, then.”

“It is.”

The boy turned around to look, but the only décor there was a potted plant, and a wilted one at that. Amazing.

“Is it a photography thing to marvel at dead objects?”

“I was testing out the lighting?” Harry offered meekly.

“The lighting. Of a dead plant.”

“No, no! The wall and lights and shit.”

“Uhhuh.” The boy nodded slowly at Harry, but Harry knows that he’s having none of his bullshit. “Prove it.”

“I- I can’t. It’s for my portfolio so it’s top secret.”

“Top secret.”

“Yep,” Harry agrees.

“Hmm. I wonder how long it’ll take before you crack.”

Harry wanted to die right now. He was pretty sure his cheeks are a deep shade of red.

“Okay, okay.” He groaned.  “I was trying to, um, take a picture of you.”

“A picture? Pretty sure I heard a few snaps,” the boy smirked at him. “I can sue you, you know. For taking pictures of me without consent.”

“Oh. I can delete them if you want?”

“Nah,” the boy says. He stood up and grabbed his drink and book before walking over to sit on the chair opposite Harry. “Let me look at them.”

“You can’t, it’s not edited yet. It looks all blurry and sharp edges and everything.”

“Doesn’t that make pictures seem more real?”

Harry looked up from where he was looking at the boy’s picture, only to realise that the boy is even prettier up close. He didn’t think it was possible. He realised that the shadows weren’t shadows, but that the boy’s cheekbones were really that prominent, and his blue eyes were as sharp as ice.

“Yes, yes it does,” he said softly.

“So show me. I mean, I don’t want my face to be edited, I think. If you ever use it for your portfolio or whatever. I don’t want to be fake.”

The boy looked at Harry expectantly, as if he was waiting for a reply, so Harry just smiles. “Of course I won’t. Don’t want you to sue me, I’m not sure if I’m fit for jail. I don’t think orange fits me.”

“Reckon anything would fit you,” the boy says, and Harry blinked, not sure if that was a compliment or a passing comment. He decided to wave it off.

“’m Louis,” the boy says again, blue eyes twinkling. “It’s like L-O-U-I-S but it’s pronounced as Lou-ee. It’s weird.”

“I’m Harry. And I don’t think it’s weird. If it’s anything to go by, I think it fits you.”

“And your name fits you too,” Louis laughs. Harry must’ve looked somewhat confused because Louis waved his right hand in Harry’s face. “The hair.”

Harry looked affronted. “Hey, I like my hair. ‘s curly, but I like it.”

“I didn’t say it was a bad thing, Harold.” Louis winked. “I like curly hair.”

He definitely didn’t blush at that. He clears his throat before nodding at the book in front of Louis. “So what were you reading?”

“Sylvia Plath.” Louis says, flipping through the pages. “It’s for one of my modules.”

“Oh, you study Poetry?”

“Well technically, I’m majoring in English Literature and modern poetry, but yeah. What about you?  Dead Objects Photography?”

A giggle escaped Harry’s mouth, and he quickly swallowed it down with a cough. He’s so embarrassing. “Just Photography, actually. Although we probably will get to the part where we study about taking pictures about dead things.”

“That ought to be quite interesting,” Louis commented. Harry hums in agreement.

The Script’s For The First Time came on, and Louis grinned. “Oh my God, I love this song. I went to their concert last year in the O2 and it was sick. I miss it so bad.”

Harry’s eyes lit up at the mention of the band’s concert. “Wait, so do I! I mean, I went to the O2 last year as well.”

“January?”

“Uhhuh,” Harry nodded. Talk about coincidence.

“Wow,” Louis whistled, his eyes crinkling at the sides. Harry itched to take a picture.

“We’ve probably crossed paths at like the toilets or something.”

“Don’t think I can forget a face like yours, mate.”

Was that a compliment? _Was Louis trying to flirt with him?_  

“Hey do you want anything from the counter?" Louis says suddenly. "’m craving for a doughnut.”

Harry shrugged. “Jam filled?”

“I guessed as much,” Louis beamed at him before standing up. Harry hasn’t had time to ask what that was supposed to mean because Louis had left him, headed off to buy some food.

In the meantime, he looks again at the pictures, marvelling at how the camera was only able to capture a small part of Louis. He looked quiet and soft in the picture, like warm fuzz on winter days. But he’s much more… vibrant in real life, and Harry thinks that’s what is great about people. They have so many sides to them that a camera could never fully capture.

He was interrupted when Louis came back to their table, setting down two plates, one with a jam-filled doughnut and the other a normal sugar glazed one.

“I’m starting to find you a bit creepy, Harry.”

“Sorry.”

“No, no, I’m flattered. ‘s creepy is all.”

“Do you want to see them?”

“Really? You’re not going to go all weird over the lightings and stuff?”

Harry shook his head. “Nah, ‘s kay. Come here.”

Louis got up and sat on the space beside Harry, peering at the small screen. “Wow, you’re really good. I mean, I’m pretty sure I don’t look half as great in real life.”

“The camera doesn’t do shit, Louis,” Harry smiles. “It’s all you, trust me.”

Louis turns to look at Harry, and Harry suddenly realised how close they were. He could smell Louis’ cologne from here. Coconut and bergamot. It was intoxicating. “Oh, well, then.”

He stood up to go back to his own seat, and as he takes a bite from his doughnut, Harry hurriedly took a picture of him.

“How many bloody pictures do you need?” Louis mumbled through a mouthful of food. “I might need to charge you for like a dollar per picture.”

Harry laughs, taking more shots, and soon Louis was laughing as well, and Harry took pictures of those, too. How could he not?

When they both settled down, Louis was looking at him with mirth in his eyes. And there was something else, too, but Harry couldn’t tell. “What’s this portfolio about, anyway? Bookish, nerdy boys reading books in a café?’”

“I don’t think you’re nerdy. I’m probably nerdier than you are.”

“Yeah well, when people see me read poetry and novels they just assume that I’m that boring nerd who never goes out.”

“I know,” Harry nodded. “My friends think so, too. But like, I don’t care, you know? Taking pictures has always been something I love to do. I love taking pictures of beautiful things.”

It might have been the lights, but he was pretty sure Louis’ cheeks were tinged with a slight pink.

“Reading and writing is kindof like photography, isn’t it?” Harry continued. “I mean, I marvel at the moments and beauty I capture but like, you see the beauty in words and I think... I think that’s amazing, what you do.”

There was silence, just the both of them staring at each other, until Louis breaks the spell with a crooked grin.

“Are you sure you aren’t in philosophy?”

“Piss off,” Harry laughed. “It’s true, though.”

“Yes, it is,” Louis mused as he sipped on his drink. “I’m sorry for dissing you about photography. I didn’t mean it. People have said I’m too straight forward sometimes. My mouth has absolutely no filter.”

“’s okay, you’re not as bad as my friend Niall. I’m not sure he even knows what a filter is.”

“I might have to meet him someday.”

_Someday? Someday???_

“Someday?”

“I don’t know, you seem like a nice guy, I’d love to hang out with you sometime.” Louis ducked his head. “I mean, if you want to, though. I’m sure you’re busy running around taking pictures of random people.”

Harry beamed at that. “I’d love to. I mean, the hanging out part. Not that I don’t, you know, enjoy taking pictures of random strangers.”

“Yeah?”

“Sure,” Harry nodded. “I mean, today sucked, because the person I took a picture of kept yelling at me about lawsuits, like, Jesus, calm down.”

“Hey!” Louis yelped. “I wasn’t yelling.”

“Oh. Must be your voice then.” Harry smirked at the other boy.

Louis brought his hand up to his mouth in mock offense. “Excuse me?”

“’s high and all.”

“Well I’m sorry I don’t speak as if I’m dead,” Louis huffed. “All slow and gravelly.”

“Huh, most have said my voice is the ‘I will drop your pants off’ voice.”

“Well obviously it doesn’t work. My pants are fully intact.”

Harry wiggled his eyebrow and Louis chucked the remaining piece of doughnut at him. “You’re an idiot.”

“Hey what happened to the ‘you seem like a nice guy’ part?”

“I take it back.”

“But I called you beautiful and everything.”

“No you didn’t.”

“Yes I did,” Harry insisted. “Indirectly.”

“That doesn’t count.”

“Fine, you’re beautiful.”

“That doesn’t sound very sincere,” Louis poked his tongue out at Harry. “But I’ll take it.”

Harry took a sip out of his cup, peering at Louis over the rim. A comfortable silence set between them, and he was amazed at how they clicked, seeing that they’ve only just met. Huh.

“So, Harry,” Louis says, placing his elbows on the table. “What are you up to?”

“I have class later, in, like,” he checks his watch. “Half an hour.”

“Oh, okay, guess you have to go soon then.”

“Guess so. What about you?”

“I’ve a shitload of work to do,” Louis sighed deeply. “Which includes a lot of reading. I mean, I don’t mind Sylvia Plath and Robert Frost, but it can get so dry I feel like my eyes are going to shrivel up.”

“Who’s Robert Frost?”

Louis stared at him. “Have you never heard of him?”

Harry shook his head.

“Not at all?”

“Nope.” he says, popping the 'p'.

“You’ve never watched Dead Poets’ Society?”

“I’ve never heard of it.”

“You so need an education on literature, mate.”

“You gonna teach me?”

“Depends. You gonna be a creep and keep taking pictures of me?”

“I can’t help it. You’re like a picture person,” he said lamely, waving his hands at Louis’ general direction.

“You’re so lame.”

“You still like me.”

“Yeah.” Louis chuckled lightly. “Yeah I do.”

And, oh. He’s pretty sure he wasn’t meant to hear that last bit but. Harry doesn’t know what to say. _Thanks? I like you too? Um?????????_

“I better be going then,” Louis says softly. He rose from his chair, but Harry didn’t want him to go yet.

“Hey, Lou?” he called out to him.

Louis turned around and raised his eyebrow expectantly.

“I don’t have your number.”

“Oh,” Louis says as he walked back over to Harry. They exchanged numbers, and when they were done, they smiled at each other before realising that they have places to go.

“I’ll text you soon,” Harry promised as they said bye to Zayn and left the coffee shop. “I mean, if you still want to do the hang out thing.”

“Yeah that’d be cool.”

“So…”

Louis cleared his throat before nodding at the book in his hand. “Yeah. So. I’ve got to go. Have fun with your class, Harry.”

“And you with your, um, Sylvia Plath.”

“I’m not too sure if it counts as ‘fun’ per se but sure, I’ll try. It was cool meeting you!”

“And you too!”

Harry smiled as he watched Louis walk towards the dorms, and when he was out of sight, he rushed to his class.

He was just settling down in his seat when he felt his phone buzz in his jean pocket. He thought it was Perrie, who’s going to ask him to take notes for her, but it was from someone who put their name as ‘ur french model xoxo’. His laugh earned a few annoyed glances from his classmates but whatever.

_How do u like my name? x_

_I knew ‘louis’ was a french name. :) x_

_Fun fact: I’m part belgian. Not french, though. But close enough._

_Thanks for the info, love, I’m sure the world can benefit from that. ;) x_

Harry pressed ‘send’ before realising that he had said ‘love’ in the text and was that too far? He watched his phone screen worriedly before it buzzed a few seconds later.

_You’re horrible._

He heaved a relieved sigh before tapping out a response.

_You’re one to talk._

_Shut up and concentrate on your lecture abt dead plants, I’m going to read some poetry :) x_

_Bye!!!!!! x_

_Bye! Seriously, harold, go and concentrate on ur lecture :p x_

_ok bye :) xx_

_BYE!_

Harry’s smile was so wide his face felt like it was going to burst. Like a stellar explosion against the sky, and he thinks that he doesn’t mind because he has a feeling that it was the start of something new, and he was excited.

And as he looked back at the professor talking about apertures, his mind kept drifting back to the blue-eyed boy in a coffee shop and he thinks that he won’t ever be able to stop grinning even if he wanted to.

It is possible that he was a little in love.

He was, after all, a romantic.

**Author's Note:**

> sorry 's a bit boring x


End file.
